


Roll the Dice

by Smapdi



Category: The Mindy Project
Genre: F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-09 14:10:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1985901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smapdi/pseuds/Smapdi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Business trip to Vegas, baby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roll the Dice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Calliope_Soars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calliope_Soars/gifts).



> This is set sometime in S2, probably after the events of DCIMPT, but the LA/Desert episodes didn't happen, they do this instead, and also there's no Cliff, because reasons. 
> 
> This is based off a prompt by the lovely Calliope_Soars, who also read the first draft and hopefully agrees this one is better.

"Okay, my friends, I must bid you adieu for now. Dr. C, Dr. L," Morgan nods as he addresses his employers. "P-Dawg! I'm heading over to the Circus Circus to see if I can get a room."

They're standing in the lobby of the upscale Vegas hotel where tomorrow, yet another dreary medical convention will be starting. No one is sure how Morgan keeps ending up at these things with them, but as long as he pays his own way, no one complains. Mostly because he's handy for carrying bags and running errands. 

But Mindy feels a pang of sympathy for the poor sap. 

"Morgan, is that really a good idea? It's clear on the other end of the strip. That's an awfully Long walk. And those clowns..." Okay, maybe it wasn't entirely sympathy. She was fairly concerned about the possibility that Morgan might befriend a grease-painted maniac. 

"It's fine, Dr. L. It's like, a four mile walk. Plus, I only have to play the nickel slots for eleven hours a day to earn enough to comp the room! So I can still come help you during the convention, and get a good solid three hours sleep a night." He grins and bows to her, tipping his imaginary hat and then slapping it back on his head. 

"Oh, for god's sake, Morgan. Would you just sleep on the damned couch in my room? It's really no big deal." Mindy sighs. 

Morgan grasps her hands and places a kiss on each palm. "I thought you'd never ask. But wait," he pauses with a look of concern. "Do you really think it's a good idea, given our history? And the unrelenting sexual tension between us?"

"Okay. That's enough." Mindy pulls her hands free and digs in her purse for the envelope holding her room keys. "Ground rules, Morgan. The bathroom is my domain. I shower first, I do everything first. You will not bring anything or anyone back to the room. There will be none of that "what happens in Vegas" going on, you hear me? Do not make me regret this."

Danny has been listening the whole time, and makes a snorting noise that attracts Mindy's wrath. 

"What, Danny? You want him on your couch? I'm sacrificing my privacy here!"

"No, noooo. I've gotta share with Peter, that's bad enough. Where the hell did he go?" Danny peers around the noisy, crowded lobby for a sign of their colleague. 

"He'll show up eventually. I'm going upstairs to get settled before check-in. Morgan, can you grab my bags?" Mindy takes off for the elevators. 

The room is on the small side, with a king sized bed and sitting area crammed together. Morgan makes himself at home after dragging in all three of Mindy's bags - one for her clothes, one for shoes, and her oversized purse/laptop carrier. She busies herself putting away her garments and changes to cocktail attire for the meet and greet. Who knows, there might be a handsome prince buried among all the frogs. 

Sadly, Mindy finds the mixer is less a glamorous party for educated medical professionals/beautiful people and more a gathering of educated medical octogenarians/old ass people. Fortunately there is champagne, but unfortunately this gives her a headache. She spots Danny snacking on canapés and makes a beeline for him. 

"Ugh, Danny. This is going to be the most boring conference ever," she grumbles, while raiding his plate, snagging little crackers with some kind of cheesy topping. 

"Hey!" Danny sputters, his mouth full, and he pulls his plate away, but not before she grabs a shrimp. 

"What? There's a table full right there." She pops the shrimp into her mouth with a grin. 

"How can you be bored already? It hasn't even started." 

"I can just tell. How are we supposed to learn about modern advancements in obstetrics from these people? They're all old enough to remember when Caesar got the original C-section." Mindy elbows him in the ribs, chuckling. 

"What did you expect? It's a convention, not a singles bar." Mindy rolls her eyes, not having heard this phrase in her adult life. "You're here to work." Danny leans over and grabs a few more crackers. He catches Mindy swiping another off his plate. "Oh come on, get your own!" 

"Fine, geez." She starts selecting crudités and occasionally puts one onto Danny's plate. "Look, I though since it's in Vegas, there would be more excitement. Like Elvis impersonators or drag queens or something. This is just like... doctors."

"Imagine that." Danny jabs her hand with his fork when she reaches for yet another shrimp from his plate. "Would you stop? You have like, fifty." 

"That one looked better." Mindy pouts. 

"There's exciting stuff. Look." Danny pulls out a folded brochure that lists the daily events. "Tomorrow night. Brynn Pharmaceuticals presents a tribute to Old School." 

Mindy peers at the sheet and rolls her eyes. "Oh my god, Danny. A bunch of ancient gynos calling themselves Run-D&C!!"

Danny nods happily, giving her an innocent smile. "What? You like rap." Mindy buries her face in her hands and mimes crying as she wanders away. 

\---

Saturday's events are as dull as Mindy expected. The colleagues map out their agendas over breakfast, and Danny pencils in their names alongside the various events to make sure they have coverage. 

Mindy is less than enthusiastic. 

"Is there seriously something every single hour? This is madness. When is lunch? When am I supposed to get a chance to lay out?"

Danny grunts in exasperation. "You aren't going to have to attend everything, Min. But for what we paid to get here, you need to participate. Look, lunch is at noon and you don't have anything scheduled till 3:00. 'Updates and Treatments for Uterine Fibroids.' You have, like, three hours to nap." 

"Barely enough time. And seriously, that totally makes up for the joy of looking at genital warts for an hour right after breakfast."

"'Vulvar Dermatology,' and someone has to do it. Your other option is 'Uterine Prolapses' with Dr. McGuffin, who you said you can't stand. So unless you want to spend two hours with his, what was it? 'Smegma breath?' Then it's warts for you." 

Pete throws up his hands in exasperation. "Listening to the two of you is literally melting my brain. I'm going to find that speculum dealer and make duck imitations to all the cute pharma reps." He flees the table. 

"Don't forget your 10:00 am seminar!" Danny shouts after him. 

\----

Mindy manages to make it through the morning sessions, warts and all. Afterwards, she wanders through the vendor area, since it's just like shopping, only with lots of freebies. She manages to get an amazing numbers of pens, post-it pads, and magnets just in the first aisle alone, and is playing with a uterus stress ball when she spots Morgan loaded down with bags. 

"Dr. L! This is amazing. Did you see these candies? It's like a Pez dispenser, only it's an ovary, and you eat the eggs!" He pops a bright orange ovum into his mouth. 

"That's insanely gross, give me one. Morgan, why do you have all those female condoms?"

"The what now? These aren't doggy poop bags?" Morgan makes a face and then shrugs. "Double duty then. Ahaha, doody. Get it?" 

Mindy begs off and finds the lunch area, where she snags a sandwich - okay, two - and goes back upstairs to get pool ready. She only brought one swimsuit, a one piece with bold colors against black, and it's a size smaller than she probably should have bought, but she figures it will help keep the jiggly bits in check. Unfortunately the jiggliest bits seem a tad cramped by the cups, which isn't normally an issue, given her moderate chest size. Today, though, Mindy's nearly busting out, but after giving herself a once over in the full length mirror, she decides the effect is actually kind of hot, and anyway, her ass looks spectacular. 

She's been poolside a half hour, and besides the senior citizen in a speedo who appeared to have been coated neck to knees in silver Brillo pads, not one person has hit on her. She's basking in the rays with an oversized hat and enormous sunglasses and almost dozing off when she hears the scraping sounds of someone pulling their lounge closer. 

Mindy sits up straighter and prepares to offer a dazzling smile to the new arrival when she realizes it's just Danny. 

"Oh, it's you," she sighs. "You're not a cabana boy or a sugar daddy."

Danny smirks. "Nice to see you, too." He's wearing sunglasses too, and a pair of navy board shorts that starkly contrast with his somewhat pallid skin tone. 

"What are you even doing here? Don't you have a G-spot seminar to attend?"

Danny laughs as he rubs sunscreen on his biceps. "I could teach that one." He grins like the Cheshire Cat and Mindy rolls her eyes. "It was actually 'Modern Approaches to Anorgasmia' and Peter swapped places with me. He said the presenter was a hot Dutch chick and he 'likey.'"

"Oh god. Peter's an idiot." Mindy shakes her head and laughs. "He asked me for a Dutch surname because he wanted to make a pseudonym. I told him the only one I knew was Van Der Sloot. He's never getting laid."

"I don't think that's a bad thing. He should be here to learn, not hook up with random strangers. That's not why we came out here." 

"Speak for yourself, Danny." Mindy stretches her legs out and glances over at him as he applies the sunscreen to his chest. It's a little hypnotizing, the way it catches and sparkles on his chest hair. His nipples are hard pink pebbles and suddenly she feels awkward, because now hers are too. 

She looks up and sees he's watching her watch him, so she quickly looks away. 

"Is that why you came out here?" He asks, a little teasingly, but maybe a little curious too. 

Mindy shrugs. "It wouldn't be the most awful thing to be swept off my feet and into the sack by a rich, handsome stranger for a night of crazy hot passion in the desert. But Morgan's staying in my room, so..."

"Well there you go. Morgan. You'd get your crazy, not too sure about the passion." Danny is now working on his legs, sliding his fingers over taut muscle. It's so entrancing, she almost misses what he's saying. 

"God, you're so gross, Danny. Like I'd come 2500 miles to bang someone I work with, anyway. What a waste." 

"So you're saying you'd sleep with Morgan, just back home?" Mindy leans over and smacks him hard on his slick bicep and he laughs harder and pushes her hand away. "Hey, desperate times call for desperate measures!" 

"Your face is desperate!" She sputters as she lies back on her chaise. 

"Hey, we're not talking about me." Danny is looking over at her and he's not laughing anymore. Mindy can't see his eyes behind the dark lenses, but she gets a little unnerved anyway. Something about him suddenly feels intense. 

"Humph." She suddenly can't get comfortable. Her suit feels restrictive and it's making it hard to breathe. She plucks at the bodice, trying to ease the pressure. "Ugh. This top is too small."

She knows she's calling attention to her chest, and isn't sure why she's doing it. It only seems fair, what with Danny lying there practically massaging himself. 

"They're fine," Danny murmurs. 

"Thanks," She says automatically, then catches herself. "Wait. They? I'm talking about the bathing suit top, Danny."

"Oh." He scratches his stomach lazily and tries to look casual, but there's a smirk he's suppressing that is twisting his lips. 

"You thought I was talking about my boobs... I knew it. You think they're too small." She crosses her arms over her chest, which causes them to plump up slightly. 

Danny sighs. "I didn't say anything like that. You're projecting." 

"If they weren't too small, you wouldn't have thought I was saying they were too small."

"I can't even follow your logic. Seriously, you're taking offense at nothing." He glances back at her and she totally catches the slight head nod when he looks down. "Besides... more than a mouthful is a waste." Danny leans back with a shit eating grin. 

Mindy fights the little curl of arousal that is blooming in her belly, as the image of Danny going to town on her chest with that magnificent mouth of his forms unbidden in her head. 

"I always heard it was handful."

"Eh, either way." He looks at her again, over the tops of his sunglasses, and winks. 

She's still insulted, even when it's entirely in her own head. She might as well ride it out. "It's rude, Danny. How would you like it if I was to imply your... er... package was too small?" 

Danny adjusts his shoulders against the chair, which puffs his chest out. "I think you and I both know that isn't true." You couldn't chisel the grin off his face. 

Mindy snorts. Once a man has seen his junk blown up two feet high, it's hard for him to remember the actual size. Still, he has a point. She sneaks a glance back at him and he's watching her again. 

"Danny, stop looking at my boobs!" Mindy rolls over onto her stomach and lowers her chaise so she can lie flat, her face on her crossed arms. He doesn't respond, and she knows he's probably just looking at her ass instead. 

She grins into her forearm. 

\---

The afternoon sessions make Mindy zone out, but she has Morgan there recording them on his phone so she can review them later. At dinner, Peter regales them with endless boring stories about the Dutch speaker and the size of her cans, which makes for an awkward moment of eye contact with Danny over the prosciutto and melon. 

Once the meal is finished, she follows Morgan to the slot machines and somehow manages to bankroll him for an hour before she runs out of cash. Morgan generously offers to make an ATM run, but she's tired and the noise is making her ears ring, so she ditches him and heads back to the room. 

Danny is heading towards the elevators as she steps out on their floor. He's changed into jeans and a light blue dress shirt, which is open at the neck enough for Mindy to catch a glimpse of chest hair. Jesus, what is making her look at his chest so much? Talk about desperate measures. 

He smiles when he sees her, and she feels her stupid face responding in kind unconsciously. "Turning in so early?" He teases. 

"Staying up so late?" 

"I was just going to go get a nightcap." Danny's voice seems lower, throatier than usual. "Wanna join me?"

He's got his trademark half smile going, and he reaches out and strokes her upper arm. 

Unbelievable. He's flirting with her. 

Mindy's stomach tenses and for a rare moment, she can't think of anything to say. 

"I'd better not," She finally sighs. "You've got me down for the ultrasound panel bright and early, and I ate way too many of those little eclairs at dinner."

Danny nods. "See you in the morning, then."

She walks back to her room and wonders why she turned him down. 

\---

Sleep came fitfully to Mindy, partially because she spent at least two hours going over all the strange events of the day, and mostly because Morgan kept having nightmares and falling off the couch. He finally just stayed there and they both managed to get a few hours of undisturbed sleep, but Mindy still feels cranky in the morning. 

Danny looks refreshed and full of energy, which pisses off his roommate almost as much as it does Mindy. Peter had apparently taken the term "the strip" to heart and visited a gentleman's club after he was unable to convince the Dutch woman to "trek je slipje uit." He had apparently struck out there as well, even after repeated visits to the champagne room, and now he's a few hundred bucks poorer, short on sleep, and in a foul mood. 

"Okay, Pete, skip the afternoon seminar on Stress Incontinence and take a nap. Could you just try to at least show up for my lecture? It would be a nice show of support to have my colleagues there."

"Yeah. Great. I'll be there with bells on." Peter grumbles and heads back to the buffet for more bacon. 

"I'm still so impressed that you're giving a talk on natural birth, Danny. The midwives would so jealous." Mindy couldn't help but tease him, considering how he was so old fashioned and fixed on traditional viewpoints when they first met. 

"Look, it's important that we know what those charlatans are doing, so we can combat them. If patients want to try a natural experience, they're better off with us, in case something goes wrong." 

"Danny, I've heard you give this lecture about forty times, you don't have to convince me. Do you want to say "vagina" a few times so you're more comfortable with it?" She pokes him in the side and he wriggles away. 

"I'm fine with vagina. I'm good, no, I'm great with vagina." 

He's saying this a little loudly, and a small blonde woman leans over to commiserate. "My girlfriend says I am too, hon, but let's not brag too much."

Danny turns scarlet and stammers something about it being a figure of speech. He shoots a nervous glance at Mindy, who is biting her lip to keep from laughing. Public speaking is clearly not Danny's strong suit. 

\---

Danny ends up pulling it off really well, to everyone's surprise. Morgan gives him a standing ovation with tears springing from his eyes, and there's just a normal amount of flop sweat. It's the last thing they have planned for the day, besides the farewell dinner, but Mindy feels a bit unfulfilled. 

She springs her idea on them as they are finishing dinner. 

"Okay, guys, we've been in Vegas three days, and we haven't gone clubbing, or gotten drunk or high or sexually inappropriate with strangers."

Peter starts coughing and buries his face in a napkin. Mindy glares and continues. 

"Come on, we're going home tomorrow, let's go crazy tonight!"

Danny frowns. "You want to do all that? In one night?" 

She leans over and smacks his arm. "Well maybe not all of it. Though it would be fun. But let's at least go party our asses off!"

"That could take you a while, Dr. L." Morgan shakes his head. "You really should have started yesterday."

"You, shut up. I can still send you to the clown hotel." She points at Morgan. "And you, stop laughing. I saw you checking it out at the pool!"

"It's hard to miss." 

Mindy pinches Danny's arm hard.

"Ow! Geez, settle down." He rubs his bicep."We're flying out in the afternoon, shouldn't we get some rest?"

"Whatever, grandpa." Mindy stands up and surveys the room. "You stay here with the AARP, then. I have a kick ass outfit I haven't gotten to wear yet, and I'm in the mood to have a little fun." 

\---

It takes her an hour to get ready, and by then, Morgan has gone from tapping to thumping to straight up begging. "Dr. L, come on... You can't get more beautiful than you already are!"

"Not gonna work, Tookers!" She shouts through the door. 

She looks over her outfit one more time. She actually brought three kick ass outfits, but settled on this one. The top is a shimmering dark purple, handkerchief style which exposes a lot of her back, and she's rocking a tight black skirt with sheer panels on the sides. It's not the flashiest thing she brought, but it does the job. 

Mindy swings open the door to let Morgan in, but instead finds Danny leaning against the frame. 

"Oh," she squeaks, feeling suddenly self conscious as Danny's eyes sweep over her. He's dressed similarly to the prior night, only his shirt is a darker blue, and it seems like his eyes are darker, too. Almost black. His mouth twists into a smile and she feels it in the pit of her stomach. "Where's Morgan?"

Danny jerks a thumb towards the elevators. "Pete dragged him off in search of the Dutch girl. He said they'll catch up to us."

"He's sort of obsessed with that woman. It's a little disturbing." Mindy grabs her handbag. 

"What are you taking that for? It'll just be in the way." 

She frowns in confusion. "It has my key, and phone, and some cash for drinks. No big deal."

Danny shakes his head. "I'll hold your key. Leave your phone, who are you gonna call?"

"Danny, there might be celebrities. I can't miss my chance to take a selfie with Britney."

"Fine, I'll hold that too. You don't need cash when you look like that. Guys will be falling all over themselves to buy you drinks." He holds out his hand and Mindy feels a bit odd, but she hands him her things, feeling a flush in her cheeks. 

"And if they don't? I'll be awfully thirsty, Danny." She sets her purse on the dresser and looks at him with uncertainty. His gaze never wavers, and it's making her warmer still. 

"Then I'll buy you drinks. Come on." He puts his hand on the small of her back as they make their way to the lobby, and she can feel the heat of his palm even through a layer of fabric. She hopes he doesn't notice how hard her nipples suddenly are, poking through the thin silky material. 

"Are you cold?" 

He noticed. 

\---

The club is a bust. 

Even on a Sunday night, Mindy expected a bigger, more youthful crowd, but apparently a hotel full of ob/gyns doesn't draw the hotties as much as you'd think. She's been bought a few drinks, oh yes, Danny was correct - one Dr. Irving Feingold from Massapequa General bought her two, and tried desperately to get her number plugged into his Jitterbug, but his hands trembled too much. 

Peter and Morgan finally show up, sans Dutch girl, and Morgan can not stop talking about wanting to buy a pair of ferrets. Danny assures him they are illegal, as the great mayor Rudy Giuliani had banned them a decade prior, but Morgan feels strongly he can smuggle them on the plane in his pants. 

Mindy finally escapes the clutches of Doc Feiny, as he told her to call him, and begs for someone to save her. 

"Mindy, you look like a scrumptious trollop in that outfit. Having fun attracting some sugar granddaddies?" Peter leers at her. 

"Shut up, Peter." She runs her hands through her hair in exasperation. "I can't believe it's my last night in Vegas and I can't even get buzzed with these watered down drinks. And no one will dance with me! They're all afraid they'll break a hip."

Danny rolls his eyes. There are dozens of people dancing, all of them under retirement age, but Mindy's exaggeration game is strong. He grabs her hand. "I'll dance with you."

Mindy follows him onto the dance floor, a little intimidated. She's seen his moves and knows hers look more like something Carlton from Fresh Prince would pull off. 

She's doing a weak little hop to the vaguely clublike beat - she hasn't recognized a song yet, so she has a feeling the DJ is playing some unsigned acts to stay "fresh." But Danny doesn't seem to notice, and his body is moving fluidly and he's really, really close to her. When Mindy moves away just a little, for some breathing room, he puts a hand on her hip and pulls her back in. 

She bites back a gasp when he hand slips under the hem of her shirt, though she's sure it's accidental. His fingers are alarmingly warm on her waist. Then she meets his eyes and she's not so sure it was accidental anymore. He must have had more to drink than she thought, but his eyes are clear, and so is the look in them. It's almost feral, and it's making her blood sizzle. 

Then Mindy isn't even concentrating on trying to dance anymore, because she just is, as if it came naturally. Their bodies are almost touching as they move in unison, and it's like they're alone on the dance floor. Everything else fades into the background. 

Then he spins her around, wrapping his arm around her so he can rest his palm against the soft skin of her belly, his other hand on her hip. He's not quite grinding on her, but she can feel his hot breath on her neck and she's getting dizzy. It's not from the alcohol. What the hell is happening here? 

Mindy doesn't mean to, but as she sways, her ass grazes up against him, and yes, she's pretty confident he's glad to see her. She fights the impulse to do it again, to linger there with him pressed hard against her, but this is already going to be awkward enough for her. Still, there's a thrill deep down when she thinks about it, that he's aroused by her, by the way she moves, by the way he's touching her body...

And it needs to stop. 

When his knee moves between her legs and he laughs right into her ear, she thinks she going to lose her mind, right here on the dance floor. How is this even real? She turns back around and her breath catches when she makes eye contact again. Fuck. He looks really intense, and sweaty, and it's making her heart pound out of her chest. No, it's not him. It's just the drinks, the dancing, the physical exertion. 

Sure it is. 

She knows she's being ridiculous. This is just Danny, the same guy who grimaces when she belts out Rihanna, the guy who side eyes her when she brings up Wendy Williams. This is not normal behavior for him. Maybe he took some E? Or someone slipped him some free Viagra samples. That would explain it all. Anything makes more sense than Danny suddenly getting the hots for her. 

It just doesn't explain what's going on with her, and it's suddenly too much. 

Mindy shouts that she needs a drink and practically runs away to the bar before she realizes she has no money, and Irving is nowhere to be seen. She does spot Morgan though. 

"Dude, these weak ass beverages are not getting it done. Can you go buy us a bottle of tequila? There's cash in my purse upstairs."

"Done and done. Well, when I do it, then it will be done. And done. I'm on it!"

Morgan gives her an awkward hug and darts off. Peter has hijacked Danny and appears to be trying to talk him into a strip club run, but he's shaking his head vehemently and keeps looking around. She reluctantly joins them. 

"Come on, Danny. When was the last time you had a hot ass grinding on your lap? Let's hit the Pink Pony!" Peter tugs Danny's arm like a spoiled toddler.

"I'm going upstairs, guys." Mindy flips her hair and tries to sound casual. "Morgan is getting me some booze. Feel free to join us." She locks eyes with Danny for a split second. 

"Ughhhh, fine," whines Peter, the prospect of throwing more money at silicone enhanced ta-tas dwindling. "At least I can get hammered and forget this awful trip."

Morgan is back rather quickly, having procured a souvenir bottle shaped like a cactus and matching shot glasses. Pretty soon the four of them are well on their way to being blackout drunk. 

Mindy sits on the side of the bed, kicking her legs slowly as the alcohol burns a path through her. She had briefly considered changing, feeling odd about still wearing a club outfit, but she thinks pajamas would feel more ridiculous and out of place with three fully dressed men in the room. Well, two and a half - Peter seems to be taking a page from the prior night and is seemingly playing strip poker by himself. First he lost the shoes and socks, then the dress shirt - now he's just wearing an undershirt and fiddling with his belt. It's not a particularly pretty sight. 

Neither is Morgan, for that matter. He's slouched over Mindy's laptop, scrolling thorough homeless puppies on Petfinder and quietly singing Sarah McLachlan songs. Every once in a while, one particularly speaks to him and he keens and wails. "Stubby! They call him Stubby because his tail got caught in a car door," he cries, pointing at a sad eyed Beagle mix. "Stuuuubbbbyyyy!"

It's a dismal end to a mediocre weekend. 

The only bright point, if she can call it that, is that Danny seems to be a pretty amiable drunk. He's neither crying nor stripping, but he's just draped over the arm of the couch, gazing at Mindy. That's pretty much all he's done over the last hour as they passed around the cactus, having given up the spiny shot glasses to just drink straight from the bottle. 

Mindy tries to focus her bleary gaze on the window,where the lights of the strip are dazzling, or on her feet or the ceiling or her phone or anywhere but Danny, but she keeps feeling the pull, stronger with each fiery sip. He's got his chin resting on the back of his hand, fingers sunk into the upholstery, and he's just watching her endlessly. She's not drunk enough to take action and not sober enough to stop wanting to, and when she meets his eyes and his lips twist in that little smile, she stops breathing for just a second. It's like a kind of pleasant torture. 

Peter is pacing now, his belt around his knuckles as he mutters unintelligibly. He's a terrible drunk, and Mindy hopes no inanimate objects are violated tonight, or at least none in her room. There is a pretty hot ficus on the balcony. 

Mindy reaches up with her foot and jabs Danny on the knee, aimlessly, because she's bored and buzzed and starting to feel just a little reckless. She moves to pull it away but he's quicker and his slender fingers wrap around her ankle. 

She tugs lightly but he holds fast, mirth twinkling in his eyes. He bites his lower lip and moves his hand up to stroke her calf and she's transfixed. 

"Make way!" Bellows Peter, as they are in between him and the balcony. Danny releases her leg and Peter opens the sliding door, letting a blast of hot desert air into the room. 

"Be careful, Peter! Don't fall!" Mindy shouts. 

"I'm fine, I'm not gonna... whoa!!" He pokes his head back in. "Just kidding."

"You're an idiot." Danny grunts. Mindy stands up to snatch the booze from Morgan's fist and as she makes her way back to her spot on the bed, Danny catches her wrist and pulls her down on the couch with him. He slips the bottle from her hand and takes a swig before handing it back to her. She's angled away from him with her legs draped across his as she had landed, and as she tilts the bottle against her lips, she feels him touch her skin. 

His hand is on her bare knee, rubbing lazy circles against the soft hollow behind it, and she can't fucking breathe. Mindy watches as his fingers stroke and dip and god, she can't stop thinking about them elsewhere on her body. She wants to squirm, or moan, or somehow release this pressure that's building up, that he's building in her. But she can't; she's trapped in a prison of her own device. 

Mindy tilts her head and looks him in the eye. This is beyond simple flirting. They're sitting in a room with two co-workers inches away and he's making her crazy wet and she knows what she'd find if she moved her foot over just a little. She can't think anymore, except to wish maybe Peter would fall off that balcony and take Morgan with him, but no, she doesn't want them dead, for gods sake, just gone. And then what? 

The air is too thick and hot in her lungs. 

She hears another noise from the balcony and snaps. "Peter! Goddamn it, come back in and close the fucking door! You're heating up the whole room!"

Peter glares at her as he comes back in, sulking. Of course, he's not to blame for her current condition. It's the alcohol, and more so, the way Danny's hand is slowly moving up her thigh, that's making the warmth spread low in her belly. Shit. He's about six inches from fingering her in public, and while he might be that drunk, she isn't, so Mindy has to be the one to pull back on the reins. 

Easier said than done, when drink or no drink, she wants to feel those fingers on her skin. She can't even deny it anymore. 

But she also feels an insistent nagging from her bladder and it's a good excuse to get up. Danny is still holding her wrist and he tugs a little before letting go, but Mindy doesn't even look back, just makes her way to the bathroom. 

Once she's there, she pees and wipes the smudged liner from her eyes and rests her forehead against the cool mirror. This is too crazy for words, though when she thinks hard about it, it's really not a surprise. They've been fencing back and forth for a long time, advancing and retreating, parry and riposte, but no joust is really complete without thrusting. 

Suddenly, her eyes feel heavy, the alcohol thoroughly absorbing in her bloodstream. It's too much right now, trying to think, and she just wants to stop, and sleep, and deal with whatever whenever, but not now. 

She's in there a while, and when Mindy walks out of the bathroom, she finds both Morgan and Peter at the laptop. From the sounds of it, they're no longer looking at dogs. Danny has his eyes closed. 

"You better not be giving me a virus," she scowls and thumps down the lid mid moan. 

Peter cries foul and Morgan shakes his head. "They had condoms!" He exclaims. 

She leans over and pokes Danny's shoulder and then shakes it, but he's out cold. "Ugh!!"

"It's okay, too many cooks anyway." Peter sidles up next to her, his boozy breath in her ear. "Four's a crowd. But Morgan and I are awake... and it's not gay when it's in a three way, am I right, buddy?" He reaches back to high five Morgan, who looks confused but returns the slap anyway. 

"Ugh, Peter, you're disgusting. Keep it in your pants or it's going over the balcony, with or without you." Mindy pushes him away and sits back on the bed. "Great. The only one here who isn't perving out on me falls asleep."

Peter hoots. "Excuse me? He's been perving on you all night. Hello!?"

"Excuse me?" It's hard to muster up the energy to be indignant, especially when she knows he's right. She feels drained. 

"Oh come on. Between the grinding in the club, and all the eyefucking, and then that little display," he gestures to the couch. "I thought you two were gonna bang it out right here." 

"Shut up, Peter." Her head is spinning, as is the room. 

Morgan is standing there with a dumb shocked look, his mouth set in an O shape. "Dr. L, is there something you want to tell us? Did you and Dr. C sneak off and get married? I saw that chapel downstairs..." 

"Oh god. That's, that's even grosser, and I didn't think that was possible," Peter clucks as he starts to pick up his discarded clothing. 

Somewhere in Mindy's booze addled mind, it sounds appealing. "Morgan! That's a great idea."

"Um, I'm pretty sure you can't marry an unconscious person," Peter cautions. "Even in Vegas."

Mindy shakes her head. "I don't really want to get married! I just want him to think we did. As a prank." She isn't sure why she likes the idea so much. 

"Okay... okay! They sell cheap rings down in the gift shop!" Morgan volunteers to go buy them and Peter just grimaces and heads back to his room with the last of the tequila. Mindy lays back on the bed just to close her eyes before Morgan returns, but sleep overtakes her before too long. 

\----

Bright morning sun cuts in from the open drapes and startles Mindy awake. She has a dry mouth and a throbbing head, so she staggers groggily to the bathroom where she can splash some water on her face. She's still in her club clothes, thoroughly wrinkled, and she has creases on her cheeks and a serious case of bed head. After gulping water from the tap and visit to the toilet where she almost brings it back up, she wipes her face off with a towel and the terry cloth loops catch on her finger. 

Her ring finger. 

There's a brief, weird moment of panic before she hazily remembers planning a prank last night. When she was drunk it sounded awesome, a chance to freak Danny out and watch him panic. But in the harsh light of day, it doesn't even make sense. 

Morgan must have come back and put the ring on her finger, so she assumes he did the same with Danny. Danny was still out there, right? But where was Morgan? Mindy leaves the bathroom and sinks back onto the bed. She's not ready to be awake. In fact, she's not sure she's ready to be alive, and the thought of packing and getting on a plane and going back to her stuffy, messy little apartment... And Danny is still asleep on the couch, slumped awkwardly. 

She'll tell him about this later, when he wakes up. Never mind playing the dumb prank at this point. It's too much work. She closes her eyes again and before long she hears Danny waking, then stumbling to the bathroom, but her head weighs too much to lift off the pillow. She breathes in deeply to try and clear her thoughts and sits up as Danny comes out of the bathroom. 

He's staring at his left hand. 

Mindy starts to speak, to tell him hey, don't freak out, it's a joke, but she can't form the words. She just watches as he stops halfway into the room and looks up at her. He's obviously confused, but he's so calm, it throws her off guard. 

"What..." He looks back at his hand and then is at her side in two strides, faster than he should be able to move after buckets of alcohol, and he grabs her hand and pulls it up to see the dazzling, fake gems. "What's going on? Mindy, what the hell did we do last night?"

"I don't know." She has no idea why she's carrying on this charade. It's just so fascinating to see him trying to digest this strange turn of events. "I don't even remember last night. Morgan was giving us shots, and then... it's all kind of a blur."

This is all true, except for the fact that she knows they definitely didn't get married. 

He drops her hand and stands up, running his hands through his hair. He starts to pace, but it's not panicky, it's careful, like he's weighing things over in his brain. She should just tell him, because this is so silly.

Mindy stands up, her legs feeling a little wobbly. She makes her way to the dresser and leans against it. Danny's energy is vibrating through the room - how is he not hung over? But it's making her buzz a little too. 

"It's okay, Min. It's okay." He gives her a look and for gods sake, he's only concerned about her, making sure she doesn't freak out. This seems to make it both worse and better at the same time, and now she wants to keep going, wants to see how it plays out. "It's okay. It's not a big deal. We can fix this. We can get an annulment." 

Danny paces back and stands in front of her, his hands on his hips, his breath coming in little shallow pants. She's feeling the same breathlessness for entirely different reasons. 

"We can, right? We didn't..." His expression changes as he looks down at her, seeing the crumpled clothes, the messy hair. 

She sucks in her breath. Why is she carrying this so far? It's like she wants him to think they consummated this fake relationship, as if they actually had messy, drunken sex with their clothes on before passing out. There's something so thrilling, so fucking dirty about the idea that it's getting her a little worked up, like she was last night. She remembers his hand on her thigh, his eyes burning into her, the way they are now. 

Mindy sighs and looks down, biting her lip, and looks back up at him through her lashes. "Danny..."

"We didn't," He repeats, but it lacks conviction. His voice sounds thick and strangled, and his gaze is intense. It's getting difficult for her to maintain her composure now, but it's too delicious to stop. 

"I don't... Danny, it's just... I'm not wearing underwear... and I always wear underwear." Her voice is plaintive, almost shy, and she swallows hard. She has no idea where she's going with this, or what she expects him to do with this new information. 

Danny moves closer, almost close enough that their bodies are touching. He reaches his hand out and grips the dresser to steady himself, and it brushes her hip. 

"You're not... wearing underwear." He repeats, his voice husky. 

Mindy feels a rush of adrenaline and it's making her pulse race. She needs to end this. She doesn't want to, but she has to, before it's not funny anymore. "Danny, I'm just..." Her voice is cut off by the harsh pressure of his lips. 

Well, that wasn't what she expected at all. 

But holy shit, is it good. Danny grips her hips and slams her body against his, and he's already hard, pressing heavy against her belly. She moans against his mouth and he pulls back, panting against her throat. "Well, if we can't get it annulled, we might as well make it worth our while," He growls. "And not something we can just forget."

She wants to stop him. She needs to tell him. He has to know it was just a prank before things go to far, before he feels tricked and betrayed, but oh... He's just everywhere. His mouth and his hands and the hard pressure of his body against her and she can't think. She thinks she'll tell him as soon as he takes his tongue out of her mouth. 

And then his hand is moving up, underneath her top, and she forgets for a moment just what she was supposed to say. 

"Danny," Mindy gasps as his mouth slides down the column of her throat. "Wait, I need to tell you..."

Danny's palm is on her breast, and his fingers are so gentle, and she can't help it, she arches into his touch and something desperate sounding is all that comes from her lips. He's moving his tongue and then nipping with his teeth and she's feeling like an animal, all instinct and heat. 

He slips his hand out of her shirt and is moving back up to her face. "Danny, I have to tell you..."

"Stop. Talking." He growls against her jaw, and then he's licking into her mouth, and his hands are on her hips, hiking her legs up around his as he lifts her onto the dresser and presses against her. She thinks maybe she can just enjoy it for a moment longer before she tells him when she realizes his hand is moving quickly up her thigh. 

Danny's mouth is somewhere behind her ear when he reaches the apex of her thighs and she gasps as his fingers press firmly against her. The sensation is so incredible that she's just momentarily lost in it, and she wants to grind against his hand, but he's gone still, his mouth no longer moving, his fingers unable to complete their intended journey because they're blocked by the sodden cotton of her panties. 

Her panties. 

She's holding her breath as she realizes that even in his lust-addled haze, something doesn't add up, and her heart sinks as he slips his hand free and pulls his mouth from her neck and looks at her in confusion. 

"Danny." She says quietly, and her voice cracks. 

"You are wearing underwear." It's not phrased as a question, but he's clearly asking for an answer, and the words start to tumble from her mouth. Mindy holds onto his shoulders for dear life, and oh, she's ruined it, she's ruined everything. 

"I'm sorry Danny, it was supposed to be a prank and Peter and Morgan made me do it and I didn't mean for this... I thought you'd just freak out Danny, I didn't think this would happen..."

He's still just staring at her, a line forming between his brows as he squints a little and tries to absorb it all. 

"We didn't really get married." He asks her another question in the form of a statement and Mindy just shakes her head, still desperately keeping eye contact. "We didn't... We haven't..."

She shakes her head again, slowly, ruefully. Her lips open to say something, anything, but nothing works, and all that she emits is a tiny hopeless moan. 

Danny looks down. She still has her legs around his hips, though he's stepped back enough that he's not flush against her, but her skirt is still hiked up. When he looks back into her eyes, she's got her lower lip tucked beneath her teeth, and she keeps her arms around his neck. 

Mindy wants this. She wants him, and she didn't know how much until right this minute.

He raises his eyebrows, as if he's surprised at his own damn self, and then he grabs her face in his big palms.

"Good," he says as he kisses the hell out of her anyway. 

Mindy laughs in shock against his mouth. Danny presses back against her, all muscle and sinew and damn, it feels good when he grabs her ass and lifts her off the dresser. He carries her to the bed, laying her down gently while his mouth never parts from hers until it has to, because his hands have found their way back up her skirt and are tugging her panties over her hips and he has to stand to pull them all the way off. He flings them somewhere behind him.

Once the damned things are gone, he returns to slot himself between her thighs, spreading hot kisses over her neck, but his pace is less fervent now. It's like now, he has all the time in the world and he's going to spend it driving Mindy insane. 

His fingers finally find her heat and dance nimbly around as she moans low in her throat and urges him on. He's teasing her, sliding against her entrance and back to where the nerves are gathered in an insistent bud, torturing her exquisitely. It isn't until Mindy groans "god damn it, Danny!" that Danny slips his fingers inside and works his magic, slickly stroking as his mouth burns a path down her chest. 

She climaxes, clenching around his fingers and arching her back off the bed as his teeth scrape over one hard nipple through her top.

He kisses back up her throat and jaw as she sinks back down onto the mattress, fingers still inside her as the waves subside. She's lightheaded, boneless, and barely even notices that he's sliding up under her blouse, pushing it up and over her head. She just lifts her arms and let's him tug it free. 

"Fuck, Danny," she sighs as he begins stroking her chest with his fingers and tongue. "You could teach that seminar." 

Danny's laughter against her sternum sends trembles through her. 

"Seriously. I'm going to find that blonde lesbian and tell her you weren't bragging." Mindy's voice is dreamy, and she strokes his hair with one hand as she fists the other into the sheets. "Not. At. All... oh!"

Danny pinches a nipple, just enough to make her gasp, as he wraps his tongue around the other with a bit of suction. Jesus. He's going to make her come again, and he hasn't even taken his clothes off. 

"You've been teasing me with these for days," he tells her as he looks up at her, and she just laughs. He moves his hips forward, pressing himself against her, and Mindy can't stand it another minute. Danny needs to be naked, and he needs to be inside her. 

Her fingers find his belt and fumble, and when he takes that over, she sets to work unbuttoning his shirt. Once his pants are undone, Danny sets back to kissing her, pulling off the shirt as he goes. Somehow in the sudden disrobing frenzy Mindy finds the zipper to her skirt and manages to kick that off before she reaches for him and frees him from his boxers, eliciting a sharp breath from him as her hand closes around his girth. 

She sits up and pulls him toward her with her ankles around his ass. She means business, but he won't stop kissing her, and finally she has to grab his face and make him. "I really, really like kissing you, Danny, and I want to do it a lot more, if you'll let me. But right now, I really need you to fuck me."

He grins and pushes her back down on the mattress. 

When he finally sinks into her, slowly and cautiously, she makes the most delicious moan. He stops, just buried inside her, and doesn't move, which makes her delirious and frustrated all at once. She squeaks and grunts and gyrates her hips, anything to increase the pressure, but he stills her.

"Min..." His voice is raw, his breath hot in her ear. "You're gonna have to give me a minute..."

Mindy smiles wickedly. "But Danny... I want you to fuck me hard." 

He groans, his hips bucking into her. "Fuck, Mindy..."

"Yes, like that." She undulates back up against him. "Are you gonna come, Danny? Come in me, baby."

She can tell it's taking every last bit of control for him not to just explode, and she kind of feels sorry, but no, she's not sorry. Danny slips a hand between them and starts to work her again as he slowly pumps his hips and then it's just a matter of time for them both. 

Once Mindy feels that build again, she lets out a stream of cursing that just about puts him over the edge, and then she's coming, moaning his name, and he can't hold back. He releases himself into her with a bellow and then they're both floating down, hot, sweaty, and quenched. 

Danny lowers himself and slides sideways so he's still holding her, still tangled with her, and she feels energized, while he is quite literally drained. They look at each other in the dim morning light. 

Mindy doesn't know what the hell comes next. 

"So... wow. That happened."

He smiles and nods, one hand plucking at her hair. 

"Did you mean it?" He asks her quietly. 

She doesn't remember what she might have said. "Did I mean what?" 

"About the kissing. That you wanted to do it more..."

Mindy rolls her eyes. "Uh, yeah, Danny. And this too, but yeah, the kissing."

He's grinning harder. "So you don't just want this to be, like, what happens in Vegas..."

"Is that what you want?" She feels a little ache in her stomach at the thought. 

"No. I want... more kissing too. And, you know..."

"Well, okay then." Mindy touches his face, running her fingers across the rough texture on his cheek. "You need a shave."

"And a shower, and probably a lot of hydration. Do you want to join me?" 

"I thought you'd never ask."

\---

"Hey guys, I brought bagels... Dr. L? Where did you go..."

Morgan steps into the room and casts his eyes over what looks to be a crime scene. The bed is ravaged - the comforter is on the floor, pillows are cast to and fro, and there's a lamp knocked over, and clothes are flung everywhere. He's about to call the front desk to report a robbery when he sees the suitcases are still there, as is the laptop, and oh... There are panties hanging from the curtain rod. 

Just then, he catches the sounds coming from the bathroom. High pitched ones, giggles, and then a much lower voice, and then a shout. He's frozen for a moment, and then he just sets the bagels on the dresser and backs out slowly. 

"Peter... Peter, help! We have a problem..."


End file.
